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Night Showers

Marilyn Buck


Fifteen years ago
I bathed in morning's anticipation

now, after the sun drops
over the edge of the world
I hasten into showers
where water falls from walls
etched by prisoners' tears and curses

into safety I slide
fugitive from the State's eyes

memory washes
the sorrow-drenched day
my spirit swirls tomorrow
into its eye
flings disappointment
down the well of yesterday

May 1997
This poem appeared in
Feminist Studies v 30 # 2, 2004